The Forty-Fourth Annual Hunger Games: Hearts like Crystal
by The Mockingjay Lives
Summary: This is a Hunger Games story with all my own characters. Who will win? Could it be innocent Kaylee or Willow? Vicious Victoria or Roland? Cunning Yoric? Skilled Aquilla? Who will have their hearts, fragile as crystal, shattered? Who can survive the arena? Will anyone?
1. District One: Anne and Tiberius

The Forty-fourth Hunger Games

Chapter One

District One Reaping

Anne Swan's POV

I am up at 4:30 AM to do some last minute training. The Reaping is soon today and my father wants me to volunteer. He says I could wait for one year to be eighteen, but why wait? I've trained for years, my life has built up to winning these games. And I will. I'm lethal. I pull on a green gown to look nice in front of Panem, brush my hair, and run down to the training center.

"Hello, Farid," I say as my friend arrives at the same time as I do. "Hello, Anne. You're volunteering this year, aren't you?"he says. "Yes, I am. Of course I am! How dare you think I wouldn't? Are you?" I ask as we select our weapons to train with. "No. Not this time. I'm only sixteen, I'd rather be seventeen like you first. I think Tiberius is volunteering today." I wince. Tiberius Sable is my friend, and I'd rather not have to kill him.

I load my dart gun and aim at a human shaped target. Tingtingting! All three hit in the dead center of the heart. With my usual poison on them, a tribute would be dead in a minute. As if I'm in the arena, and more tributes are coming, I cartwheel towards the "dead tribute", snatch his pack, and backflip away to safety.

Farid whistles slowly after having demolished a wolf shaped target with his mace. "Remind me to never get on your bad side, Anne." he snickers. I smile sweetly. "You won't unless we went in the games together. And you won't. I am and Tiberius is. And I shall come out smiling." "Well it's time to go to the Reaping now, can't be late," he says, and runs off. He shouts something back at me but I can't hear because my ears have just never worked as they should. "What?" I holler at him. He slows down and repeats, "I'll come to say goodbye to you after you volunteer, so it won't just be your dad coming." Oh. That's kind of sweet. "Well, hurry up!" he yells, and beats me to the square. I arrive panting and puffing in time to see Tiberius Sable in a simple blue shirt and jeans stroll up to the boy's section. Eighteen year old Tiberius with his long black hair and brown eyes and tattoo of a crown on his forearm that makes all the other girls coo over him. Not me. I'm just his friend.

Boys look at me with my red hair and gray eyes, too, though.

Our silly Capitol escort Renee Billins with a big green wig and yellow high heels wobbles up to the stage in front and everyone falls silent."Welcome, District 1, to the exciting Reaping! One young man and woman will be chosen to participate in an event called the Hunger Games, where twenty four tributes will fight to the death and one victor will come out alive! Enough talk. Let's draw the names. Ladies first!" With the conclusion of her grand speech, Renee struts to the girls' ball and takes out a slip of district holds its breath as she unfolds it and reads..."Anetka Fallinheim!" "I volunteer!" I yell, and the stocky fourteen year old who had just stood up sat down again. I flounce up to the stage and stand at the front. "What's your name, dear?" Renee asks. "I'm Anne Swan," I say proudly, and toss back my hair. "And I will be this years Victor!" "Very nice, dear, that's the enthusiasm we want," she assures me, and steps to the boys' ball and draws a name...

Tiberius Sable's POV

I could get up and do some more training, but why bother? I'm going to win anyway. I yawn and stretch and wonder what to wear. Why wear something fancy when I know I'll immediately change to Capitol clothes on the train. I will be on that train. I'm volunteering. "Tiberius? Get up and get dressed, have some breakfast, we don't want your stomach to growl into the microphone for all of Panem to hear." my twin sister Emerald's voice floats in from the other room. She acts like she's my mother sometimes, which can be okay because we don't have one. Mother and father died when we were five years old, just starting basic training. I don't mind. I don't remember them. So we've been in an orphanage ever since. But when I win these games, I will bring Emerald with me to live in Victor's Village.

"Okay, coming," I call, and throw on some jeans and a blue shirt. I run to the kitchen and take a piece of bread from another parentless boy. "Hey, that's mine," he protests weakly, but doesn't go further. Everyone knows I can slice off a target's head with a sword in one hand and ram a dagger through another target's heart from the other hand.

I finish eating just as Emerald comes down in a short purple puffy dress."Sorry you can't volunteer," I tell her. She can't because my friend Anne Swan claimed the honor first. She huffs. "I don't know what you see in that girl, Tiberius. Claiming volunteer right before your own sister, and you still like her. I know you like her. And why are you wearing such boring clothes? The whole country will see you!" I laugh. "Oh, you'll be fine. Even if you can't go and win the games, you can live in Victor's Village with me in about a month!" "Let's go train," she tells me. "No, why bother? I'll win anyway," I snort. "Bad Tiberius!" she scolds me. "That's the attitude that'll get you killed! You can't give in to your great big ego all the time, you know." "Fine, I'll go train," I sigh. Just to keep her happy.

I grab a sword and start swinging in the training center. Whack, chop, bash, slice! I have soon eliminated a forest of training targets. I head to spears and throw at a moving tribute target. Hmm. I only got the arm, not a kill shot to the heart. Maybe I do need to practice. But then, spears aren't really my thing. And now it's time to head to the square, because it's time for the Reaping. Time for me to volunteer. And go out and win this thing. I head out, whistling casually, though I know all the girls are watching me. All the boys, wishing they could be like me. I'm strong, tough, brave, and if I do say so, quite the charismatic individual. I stroll into the square just as Anne Swan and her little friend Farid race into the crowd, puffing and panting. I frown. I will have to do something about that boy, following her around like a puppy dog. It's quite obvious he adores her, but I don't think she knows it. Most boys adore her, but I don't. I'm just her friend. Well, soon to be enemy in the games. I sigh when I think I'll have to kill her. It will pain me to do so, but it must be done. The capitol escort Renee Billins prances up to the stage and gives a tiny speech on the hunger games. Then she says,"Ladies first!" She pulls out a slip from the girls' name ball and reads, "Anetka Fallinheim!" Quick as a flash, Anne shouts, "I volunteer!" A girl, I suppose is Anetka Fallinheim, goes back to her place. Anne flounces up, wow I love that red hair of hers swinging around, and announces her name. Renee pulls a paper piece out of the boys' container and says "Gregory Giltenburg!" "I volunteer!" I shout, and run to the stage. "Well, what a handsome boy we have here," she simpers. "And you are?" " Tiberius Sable," I smirk. "Well, Anne and Tiberius, shake hands," our escort prompts, and we do...

Anne Swan's POV

After shaking hands with Tiberius, I am led to the room where tributes say goodbye to their friends and family. I wait a moment, then my dad comes in. He folds me into his arms, and for a moment I am just a little girl again. "Oh Annie, I'm so proud of you," he says. "You're going to win, okay? Win and come home. You've got to, so you'll always be my little Annie." "I'll win," I promise, and kiss him on his scratchy beard. "Do I get a token?" I ask, trying to not appear selfish. He gives me an odd look and says,"Farid's coming with it." and then he continues "You have to know I'll always watch you, to make sure you're safe, I'll always watch you. You are going to win so I can always love you." "Okay, I'll win, Dad. I love you too," I say, then our time is up. He kisses me and leaves.

Then Farid comes in. "Anne?" he says in a shaking voice. "Anne, please, you've got to win. You've got to come home for me. Anne, I love you, you can't die, you can't. I love you, win for me," he beseeches. I am astonished. He loves me? He never said! We've been friends for years and he hadn't told me! He loves me! "I will win, Farid. I promise, I promise I will win and come home." I assure him, not knowing what to think. Now I have to win. I have to come home for my father. For the boy who loves me. Farid. Our time is up and he has to go but he presses something into my hand. "Win with this," he whispers. He leaves and it's time for me to go but first I look at the thing he gave me. It's a swan shaped bottle of deadly poison. It's illegal to bring this into the arena, but I could use it on weapons in there. If I'm caught with it Farid and I will both be executed. Farid has either saved me or doomed me. I leave the room, and board the train to the Capitol. A tear trickles down my cheek. What if I do not win? I will never see my father or Farid again.

Tiberius Sable's POV

I go to the room where I must say my goodbyes to friends and family. I am sad when I think I will only have Emerald to meet me in this room. No one else can; if Anne wasn't coming in the arena too she would probably come, but all I have is Emerald. She runs in and hugs me. "Tibby," she whispers, her nickname for me. Usually I don't like it, but this time I don't mind. "Emmy, you know I'll win, right?" I ask her. "You've got to, Tiberius. You have to win, if you don't I will die. I'll die if you die in the arena." she almost whimpers. "Who will I have to baby, and wake up, and make them eat their breakfast, and take care of? You are able to win, don't let your pride get the better of you," she says as she drapes herself over my shoulder. "Hey, Emmy, don't worry. I'll win, even if I have to get through every tribute to come home to you. Who will I have to baby me, and wake me up, and make me eat my breakfast? Who would take care of me? No one, unless I win," I tell her. She sniffles. "That doesn't help, but here's your token." She gives me a tiny ivory wolf to put on my belt, and I do so. Our time is up but she clings to me still. "Don't die! Tiberius, you have to come home to me! Tiberius, you're the only person I care about! Tibby!" she shrieks, but they pull her away. I stand up and am about to go to the train, when another visitor comes in. Whoever it is is hooded, and I don't know who it is. The person pulls off the hood and it's a blonde girl I don't know. "Who are you?" I ask her. "I'm someone who can help you," she tells me. "Here's some advice: Don't trust Yoric." With that she leaves. I am puzzled. Who is Yoric? Maybe it was just a prank. Still, I am nervous as I board the train. Whoever Yoric is, I'll keep an eye out for him. He could be dangerous.


	2. District Two: Victoria and Finnigan

Chapter Two

District Two Reaping

Victoria Falcon's POV

"Victoria!" yells my seven year old sister Gloria in my ear. I leap out of bed in a fright. "Argh! Is it the Reaping already? I haven't gotten ready yet!" I yelp, frantically yanking on a yellow dress and shoes. She giggles. "No, it's only four fifty, I just wanted to wake you up so you could train really early! You should thank me!" I narrow my eyes at her. "You little pain! I don't need to train. I'll win without even trying. Now, go away." She sniffs at me and pouts but goes away. She's such a pain. My parents tell me I once had a twin sister named Luna who looked like me but had black eyes instead of green like me. She died as a baby, I wish she hadn't, surely a twin sister would be less annoying than my little sister. I get up, since I can't go back to sleep, and prepare for the Reaping. I'm going to volunteer this year, but I'm eighteen and deadly, so no need to worry. My parents are so proud of me, especially my father. He won the games a while back at fifteen, pretty young for a victor. So a lot of pressure is on me, since I have to live up to my dad's reputation.

"All right, I'll go train," I mumble. I stumble out of my very nice room in Victor's Village and down to the training center. Hattie Justinian, my friend, runs up to me. Hattie is always...a little overexcited. Well, she is only fourteen. "Hi, Vic! Nice dress!" she beams. "You're volunteering, aren't you? Wow, you look tired! I hope you slept enough for your big day today! Are you going to go train now?" and so on and so on. See what I mean? She's like someone from the Capitol, she's so cheery and giggly when it comes to the Hunger Games. She's not very good at fighting, so she'll never volunteer.

I enter the training center and pick up my favored weapon, a bow and arrows. Most Careers prefer swords and spears, but I like these best. I'm a great aim, and good at climbing trees too. I scale a fake tree to climb in training, flick my black hair out of the way, then quietly shift to be ready to fire. A human shaped target slides over to my tree on a hidden track. I lean forward and fire! Three solid thunks confirm my fatal hit, straight to the head. I climb down and smile. The tributes in the arena won't know what hit them. I smile again. I'll probably kill every tribute in the first day, with my eyes closed. That'll show them! I'll take them out one by one...my pleasant daydreams are interrupted by Hattie bouncing into the room.

"Wow! Nice shot! You did all that? You'll totally win! Hey, guess who's volunteering for the boys?" she says excitedly. "Who?" I ask impatiently. "Finnigan March!" she squeals, and bursts out laughing. "What? That tiny little thing? He's thirteen!" I say in disbelief. He's a redhead with freckles and brown eyes, and I'm pretty sure Hattie has a crush on him. He's strong for his age, and good with a sword, but his brother volunteered at fifteen last year and died in the bloodbath! Shouldn't that tell him he might meet the same fate? "Oh well, he won't win, but let's get down to the Reaping, it's about to start," I tell my silly friend Hattie.

So we hurry to get there, and we do make it in time. I spot Finnigan March looking at me out of the corner of his eye, then he turns bright red and looks away. I snort. The kid probably has a crush on me, some boys do. For some reason, no boy can ever look me in my bright green eyes without having to look away. It's like I'm a terrible monster with red serpentine eyes. I shudder, I'm scared of snakes and bugs and pretty much all creatures.

Our capitol escort with pink hair, eyes and everything, Tiana Winnbrough, steps up to the platform. "Hello, District Two! Welcome, everybody, to the reaping! Shall we see who our lucky tributes are today? Ladies first!" she smiles at everybody with her blindingly bright teeth. She plucks a slip of paper out of the ladies' ball and reads out, "Hattie Justinian!" Ha! Funny, Hattie gasps and shivers, I guess she forgot I'm volunteering. "I volunteer!" I call to Tiana. I run to the stage and announce, "My name is Victoria Falcon, and I know I'm going to win."

Finnigan March's POV

I snap awake, sure I heard my brother screaming. Again. I dream about it every night, he volunteered two years ago but died in the bloodbath. I had to see it, had to hear his final scream, because everyone must watch the bloodbath. It's required. I remember every detail, I remember it was the girl from District Five who killed him, shoved him through with a spear, and left him to scream in agony for a minute more. I remember she laughed. I drop out of bed and drag my blue collared shirt over my head, then pull on some pants. I have to be ready, have to volunteer even though I'm only thirteen. I have to win younger than anyone else who's ever won before, to show them all what I can do. And whoever the girl from five is this year, I will kill her. I make a silent oath to avenge my brother, Darius. I glance at the cracked clock. Six already! I begin to panic, I won't have time to practice, then I remember our clock is broken. It shows an hour late, so it's five then.

I get out of bed(out of mattress really), and eat a bit of cheese that's probably going bad, then drink some room temperature water. Get the picture? We are actually the poorest family in District Two. I don't go to the training center, because everyone there sneers at me for being shabby, poor, having a brother who died in the bloodbath. Careers don't die in the bloodbath, they rarely ever do. But my brother did. I walk outside behind my house, and pick up a short sword I smuggled out of the training center. I go over to the tree I've carved the words "District Five" onto and start chopping away at it. You could say I'm obsessed with getting revenge on District Five, particularly the girl. The logical part of my brain insists the District Five tributes this year didn't do it, they're innocent, but I ignore that. They are from the district that murdered my brother, they are guilty of that. I send my brain into combat mode, chips of bark fly off the tree, I chop and chop-

"Hey Finny! Run away from the training center with that sword? Shame on you!" It's that bully, Milita Exercitus, the one who torments me the most, standing near me. "Go away," I growl, trying to ignore her and concentrate on chopping. "Ohh, you're mean. Hey, is that a District Five tribute tree! How sweet! You're taking revenge on it because they killed your big brother, that's cute." She laughs and laughs, I try to warn her I'm still in combat mode, that I'll attack her if she doesn't stop. I can't. Before I know it, I've leaped at her and I whack her with the flat of the blade, and she goes down. Not injured, just winded. I stare in shock at what I've done, she springs up ready to kill me, and I drop the sword and run for dear life. I run to the square just in time for the reaping. A moment later Victoria Falcon comes in with her weird little friend Hattie. I look at Victoria, she sees it and stares at me with those intense green eyes. I blush and look away.

"Hello, District Two! Welcome, everybody, to the Reaping! Shall we see who our lucky tributes are today? Ladies first!" the escort Tiana Winnbrough giggles, and pulls out a paper from the girls' ball. "Hattie Justinian!" Aw, poor Hattie, she has a crush on me, I wish she wasn't going in, I might have to kill her-"I volunteer!" shouts Victoria, and she runs to the front. Just great, now I'll have to go in with the girl who I can't look at for more than a second. Tiana reads, "Malchus Mountain!" from the boys' ball. I'm scared, I'm very scared to do this but "I volunteer!" I yell at her, and come to the stage. "I'm Finnigan March," I tell the District, "I'm here to avenge my brother." I shake hands with Victoria, and we go to the rooms where we say goodbye...

Victoria Falcon's POV

I shake hands with Finnigan, concealing my derision, and then go to the 'Farewell Room', that's what I call it. I groan and shake my head for Finnigan. 'I'm here to avenge my brother,' pathetic! No Career tribute will ally him now! Careers volunteer because they know they'll win, because they want to go in, not so they can just take revenge. I sit down on the couch and a second later my parents and Gloria come in. I am squashed between my father and mother, and Gloria from behind. "I'd rather you not squeeze me to death before I'm in the arena," I grunt, trying to breathe. They let go of me hurriedly. My father bends down and tells me, "You're so brave, Victoria. You can definitely win this thing. You know your name means victory in an ancient language." "Mine means glory," Gloria pipes up. "Dad," I ask him, "you won, have any tips for me?" He looks at me earnestly. "Yes. Yes, I do. Stick with your Career allies until there's one other tribute left. Say you're going out to hunt him, then run away from the Careers. They betray each other close to the end." "And keep a supply of food and fresh water, and be careful," adds my mother, tracing the scars on my cheek and arm that I got from not being careful in training.. "And remember we're always watching you, so don't do anything ridiculous," says Gloria sternly. "We'll see you soon, Victoria. Bye! Here's your token. Love you. By the way, I'll be mentoring you, you'll be well taken care of," my father tells me before they have to leave, and he gives me a rose hairpin made of ruby. I smile and pin it in my hair. It's beautiful. I'm glad my father will be in charge of my gifts from sponsors. He can because he's a victor. I'll have a pile of presents in no time. I board the train, knowing I'll come back.

Finnigan March's POV

After I shake Victoria's hand I go into the room where I'll say goodbye to my parents. I walk in, they come in and I start to cry. My cold combat mode is long gone and leaves in its place a hollow emptiness. I press my head to my mother and howl. "I'm scared," I wail,

"I shouldn't have done it, I'm going to die and I can't avenge Darius, I'm going to die!" My parents calm me down. My mother looks at me solemnly. "Finnigan, if you come home you'll have a new baby sibling." I am shocked. "Really?" "Yes, really Finnigan," my father confirms. I look at my mother and see sure enough, a baby is coming soon. "Make it home for your little brother or sister, won't you?" pleads my mother. "Okay," I sniff, "You probably have to go now," not expecting a token. "We have something for you. Here," says my father, and he gives me a little stone carved into a pin-sized sword. "It was for your birthday in eight days, but-" he shrugs awkwardly. I understand the message. I might not live to my birthday. If I do, it'll be in the arena, where I can't celebrate it very well. "We love you, Finnigan. Come home for us. For your baby sibling." they tell me. "I will. I want to come home. I'll come home for all of you." I promise. Then I have to go. I push the tiny stone sword through my pants band. Then I board the train. As I look out the window and see my fast retreating district, I start sobbing anew. How can I win? I'm only thirteen. I run to my luxurious room on the train and lock myself in. I'll never see my family again.


	3. District Three: Kaylee and Oscar

Chapter Three

District Three Reaping

Kaylee Switch's POV

I wake with a shriek. Cody was reaped! My little brother was reaped! He's only twelve, he's going to die...wait. That was a dream. I sigh and get up off my blanket. Every one of my fifteen years on reaping day I can remember, I've had a terrible nightmare. I feel the urge to check on Cody anyway, so I lean over and see him blissfully snoring away in the next bed. I also see my five year old sister Ophelie sleeping with him. I've done that, so why not check on my adult brother and his wife? There, Jamie and Alice are asleep in the next bed, Jamie still with his glasses on for some reason. I'm glad my shriek didn't wake any of them up. Now that I'm already awake, I might as well get ready, so I put on my nicest white cotton dress. I hope I don't get reaped, and I hope Cody won't be. Jamie and Alice can't be, they're grownups.

I walk outside and dig through the dried leaves that I know hide my greatest treasure. Here it is, it's a box of windup toys and pieces of them. To calm myself, I start putting together a bird that will flap it's wings and hover a little over the ground when wound up. A bit later, I am done and I wind it up. It flutters around and I wish I could be free like it, free to fly away and never have to worry about the Hunger Games again.

"Kaylee?" I hear Alice call. "Kaylee, where are you sweetie?" I guess I have to go in now, so Alice won't worry about me. Alice is so sweet, she's like a mother to me, Cody, and Ophelie, even though she's our sister-in-law. A year after Ophelie was born, my parents died from a terrible sickness. I was eleven then. I miss them so much. Every one of my birthdays after that, for my birthday wish, I've wished that my parents would come back. I also just wish it every single day. But on my birthday, shouldn't it come true? I wish they would come back. If I keep wishing, they must come back sometime. I wish they would soon. I cry every night because they don't.

"Kaylee!" "I'm coming," I tell her, and go back inside. Everyone's awake by now. Jamie is cooking breakfast, it's probably the eggs Cody found in a wild bird's nest last night. Cody is putting on some yellow pants and that white vest I made for him. Alice is getting Ophelie up and putting a blue dress on her. I step inside and proudly show everyone my bird I made. "Look, it flies!" I tell Alice. She smiles at me and I glow inside. Ophelie whines, "Let me see, Leelee," that's what she calls me, and I do. She laughs and reaches her hand out to it. "Pretty bird! I want to hold pretty bird!" She catches a bit of my brown hair and pulls. I yelp. "Sorry, Ophelie, but it's time to eat," I tell her, and put away the bird. Soon everyone has eaten, gotten dressed, and is ready for the Reaping.

"I'm scared, Kaylee," whispers Cody in my ear before we go. "What if I get picked? I'll die. I don't want to be picked, Kaylee! What if you get picked? I'm scared!" "You won't be picked, Cody. I won't either, I promise." I comfort him, but this is not true. He could be. He has one slip in thousands, because I've taken out all the tesserae we need. I am more likely, a lot more likely, to be reaped. We arrive and separate into our different groups we have to go in. The capitol escort Shary Yolandara, who obviously wanted a career district, views the district and groans. "Hello, District Three," she says into the microphone with an venemous emphasis on three, "let's get this over with. Ladies first," and she reaches into the ball of girls names. She unfolds a piece of paper and reads out, "Kaylee Switch!"

...

…

…

...That's my name.

Cody lets out an anguished cry, and I see Jamie looking horrified and Alice starting to weep. Ophelie doesn't know what's happening. I walk up to the stage, aware I promised Cody something that was not true. I was picked. Now I'm going in the Hunger Games against people who have trained their whole lives. I've never hurt a fly. How did this happen? I thought my parents were protecting me from where they are in the sky. I guess not. I hear whispers from the crowd. "That poor girl." "She's the little girl who thinks her dead parents will come back." "What a tragedy, she'll never make it." "And you're Kaylee Switch," asks Shary boredly. "Y-yes," I stutter. Shary asks for volunteers but no one comes, they may feel sorry for me but they won't give themselves a death sentence. Alice would volunteer if she was young enough I know. "Okay, no volunteers, now for the boys," announces Shary, and moves to the boys ball. I hope it's not Cody. She takes out a slip of paper...

Oscar Handel's POV

I'm terrified, it's the reaping day. I've had to take out tesserae every year I could. So I have a lot of slips in. The odds aren't really in my favor. My baby brother Quentin will be fine, of course. He's only four. I'm fifteen. If I'm chosen, I'm certainly doomed, I don't know how to fight. So my only strategy would be to take out as many other tributes as I can before I go down, I don't know how though. Smother them? Crush them? I'm kind of big. Then maybe the girl from my district would have a chance, my family could certainly do with a bit of extra food. Everyone in my district would profit if she was the victor, but I assuredly would die in the bloodbath. But I won't be reaped, I can't. It would be unthinkable, impossible, too horrible to even imagine. So it must not happen.

I get up and put on some brown pants and my green shirt. Why should I put on fancy clothes, when if I got reaped the last thing I would worry about would be my clothes.

"Oscar!" yells my mother. "Come eat! Quick, it's almost time for the Reaping." "Okay, okay," I mutter.

My mother is sure, every year, that I will be reaped, and when Quentin was born she had a panic attack that he would be reaped the moment he turned twelve. She panics every year, she's petrified of the games. This is understandable; both her little sisters were reaped when she was younger. One died in the bloodbath, and the very next year the other was reaped and died on the second day. So then my mother was positive that she and everyone she cares about would be reaped. She still is, it's wasted her away over the years. My father is oblivious, he lays on the bed hour after hour, staring at our cracked television screen. He had a stroke two years ago and he was never the same again.

"Reaping, reaping, nobody likes reaping," sings Quentin and toddles over to me. "I'll volunteer for you, Oscar. If you get caught and put in the capitol." Quentin looks just like a miniature me, with dark skin and brown hair and those startling bright blue eyes. Quentin is also very smart. He has a good vocabulary and understands about the Hunger Games almost completely. I hug him. "You couldn't volunteer for me, Quentin. You'd have to be at least twelve, and you're just four." "I am twelve! Look," he tells me, and struts around. "I'm twelve, I'm gonna volunteer, I'm a very big boy, I'm gonna win the Hunger Gaaaames," he singsongs in a whiny, squeaky voice. I dissolve into laughter, guffawing so hard tears roll down my face. It's not as funny as all that, I know, but my nerves are strained and any any distraction from the looming Reaping is a huge relief.

"Quentin! Oscar! Stop playing around and come over to eat right now!" screeches my mother, and I fall silent. After we eat a pitiful meal of some greens and rice, she makes us brush and wash and comb ourselves for what she is sure will be my imminent doom. We trudge over to the square and enter three minutes before the capitol escort Shary Yolandara will even arrive. Finally she does and gives a sour little introduction, certainly she didn't want such an unimportant district as three. She draws a name for the girls and it's-Kaylee Switch!? That poor little thing, she's fifteen but I don't think she's quite in her right mind, she's convinced her dead parents will someday come back to her or something like that. Her coppery skin glints in the sun as she walks slowly toward the platform. I feel terribly sorry for her, no one volunteers and the escort goes to the boys' ball. She takes out a slip and reads, "Oscar Handel!"

That's me.

My mother's predictions were true.

I am doomed.

I go up to the stage and shake hands with Kaylee, I see her warm brown eyes filled with sadness and terror. I then let go and leave to the room where I'll see my family for the last time. Goodbye, world. I'm going to die.

Kaylee Switch's POV

I stumble into the room where I'll probably see my family for the last time. I'm blinded by tears, I don't know what to say to them, I'll only get a few minutes. I enter the room and a second later, everyone else bursts in. I'm enveloped in a massive hug from Alice, Jamie, Cody and Ophelie, even though Ophelie doesn't know what's going on. "Kaylee, sweetie, I'm so sorry," sobs Alice and clutches me to her. "I-I didn't know this could-I thought this would never happen, I thought you could somehow be safe," mumbles Jamie, his glasses askew. "You promised me! You promised that you wouldn't be picked! I thought you would be right, and you weren't!" shrieks Cody, spiraling into a total breakdown. Ophelie is confused, she's trying to ask me something but everyone else is being so loud. "Be quiet, everyone! Ophelie is trying to say something!" I yell. The noise stops. Ophelie grabs my hand and repeats,"Why are you going away, Leelee? Where you going? I want to come with you." I stifle my panic and calmly tell her, "Leelee's going somewhere far away right now, Ophelie. You can't come, I'm sorry. Leelee might stay there, but maybe I'll come back. I might, be patient." "But I wanna go with you! Why are you going to maybe stay there? Don't you love me?" she slips her arms round me and looks at me with big sad eyes. It breaks my heart, I want to tell her I love her more than anything else in the world, but it's time for them to go. "We love you, Kaylee, we all love you," they tell me. Jamie gives me back my bird as he is pulled away. "I brought it with me so it could be your token, in case this happened," he calls back, and then I am alone. I board the train, and throw myself onto my bed in my fancy room. I cry until I fall asleep on the soft, velvety bed.

Oscar Handel's POV

I walk into the room where I'll see my family, my beloved Quentin and my mother, for the last time. I am too numb, too shocked to cry. So when my mother bursts in and hugs me as hard as she can, I stand there limply. Quentin's lip is trembling, he knows exactly what's going to happen to me. "It's okay, Mom, calm down, I'll be fine," I mutter, knowing that isn't true. "I knew this would happen! I told you and told you, but you didn't listen to me!" she wails. Poor mom, I'm her third relative to go in the Hunger Games, and I'll certainly be the third to die. What if Quentin goes in too, when he's older? I bet maybe the drawing for the boys was rigged, they must have known that I'd be the third in this family to be reaped. I bet they're going to say, 'sorrowfully', that 'the odds aren't in this family's favor!' "I'm so sorry, Oscar, I don't have a token for you," she sniffs. "I do," whispers Quentin, and he hands me a music chip that'll play 'Twinkle twinkle little star' when activated. I stare at it. "Where did you get this?" I ask him. Surely he couldn't have stolen it. He taps his nose and looks knowingly at me. Okay, maybe he did. It's time for them to go, my mother flails to get back to me, but only has time to shriek "I love you, Oscar!" I think I hear Quentin in the distance, calling, "Love you, Oscar! Win Hunger Games and come home!" I have to get on the train now, so I board and stare out the window. I stay there for an hour. I don't cry, I am too numb to cry.


	4. District Four: Coral and Roland

Chapter Four

District Four Reaping

Coral's POV

I jerk awake. Someone's coming over to my bed! I crouch into a hiding position, but whoever it was already heard me. He swoops down and grabs me, and carries me outside. He puts me in his car and drives away. After a while he stops and takes me out. "This is your new home, victor's daughter. You'll be here until you're eighteen. After that..." he snarls and turns into a wolf and rips into my arm.

"AHHHHH! Help me!" I scream. The dream ends. I look around, breathing hard, tangled in my blanket. It's the same dream every night. Every night I wake up in a cold sweat, sure the man who haunts my dreams every night is going to really be there, standing over me. This time it was even scarier than usual, because I could practically feel the man breathing down my neck when I woke.

I shudder and get up. The Reaping is today, I'll go but I won't volunteer. Most eighteen year olds in District Four would fall over each other to volunteer because it's a career district, but I won't. There's a reason. When you turn seven in District Four, you begin basic training in the training center. When I turned seven, I ran away from the orphanage. So I've been concentrating on survival in the streets, which has given me strength but I'm not skilled at fighting. I'm also pretty good at my aim, I can hit anything I please when I throw a rock, and I'm sure if I could get my hands on a bow and arrows I'd be proficient. So actually, I'm great at anything they could teach me, I don't need training at all! Who would want to train me, anyway, Coral the misfit, who is afraid of deep water in the fishing district. Coral, who was left on the orphanage's doorstep with nothing but a tag that read 'Care for her'. So they did, and my first name became Coral because as a baby I had the pinkest skin a baby could ever have, coral pink. Since then, it's changed, and now it's pale and refuses to tan in a district where everyone is tanned. I also have black hair and the oddest color of eyes, black. My irises are actually black, it scares everyone. Anyway, the district wouldn't want me to represent them, so nobody would like it if I volunteered.

"Volunteering," I mutter scornfully. "It's for show-offs anyway." "An unfortunate coincidence, victor's daughter, because you will be volunteering," says a low voice that makes my whole spine tingle. It's his voice. The man in my nightmares. I turn around and there he is, glaring at me with eyes of ice. "You are going to volunteer, and if you do not...well, that's just something I wouldn't even like to imagine happening to you." And he's gone, he actually just disappeared. I look around everywhere, up and down and in dark corners but I can't see him anywhere. Now I have to volunteer or he'll get me. "ROOAAR!" A terrible beast leaps out from the place the man had been standing and lands near me. I scream and run away, to the Reaping, anywhere to get away from it, because my other great fear besides deep water is-beasts! Any type! But as I run and run, I hear the man laughing at me, because he fooled me. That must have been him.

I arrive at the Reaping flushed and panting, just in time to hear our escort Chaste Wilheim read the name for the girls, "Aimee Shell!" "I volunteer!" I shout at him, a second before a pack of other girls does. I unwillingly trudge up to the stage, knowing everyone is thinking, That dirty street rat. She's not fit to be our tribute. She has those terrible black eyes. She hasn't even trained. Why does she look like she didn't want to volunteer? Chaste's nose wrinkles in distaste at my clearly unwashed hair and ragged clothes. "And you're from here? Who are you?" he asks me, confused at my difference in looks from everyone else here. I sigh in exasperation, I get this from most people. "Yes, I'm from here. My name is Coral. Don't worry, if you forget it you can see it when I'm on all television screens in Panem, after I've won." I add cockily. Chaste guffaws. "You've got nerve! Anyway, time for our lucky boy tribute," and he reaches into the container...

Roland Noddimal's POV

I lazily stretch, taking my time to get up. This will be too easy, volunteering and winning. I know my strategy, I've watched enough Hunger Games to come up with one certainly. Kill. That's all there is to it. To non-careers, it's much harder to get started, but after your first time it's simple. And to me it's even simpler. I'm from District Four, I'm a Career. Deadly with daggers, strong, master of making shelters. I'm unbeatable, and everyone knows it. "Justin, Julian!" I roar at my little brothers. "What, Roland?" they yell back at me. "Get me some food!" I roar. "Right away, Roland!" they yelp in unison. I settle back in my bed, chuckling. Everyone knows I'm unbeatable. So they do what I tell them or...well, I always keep a dagger at my side. Just for safety, of course.

A huge tray of breakfast with two tiny brothers under it scurries into my room. "Here, Roland!" they squeak. "Good, now get me my Reaping outfit, the one with the green buttons," I command them. They get it for me. "Now, out of my room!" and they run away. I put it on, button up all the buttons, then set to work on the delicious food.

After I'm done, I go to the training center. I don't really need it but I have to volunteer looking like I've trained all day, so everyone will be in awe of me. Roland Noddimal, the mighty, the one who can kill another tribute with one thrust of my dagger. I stroll into the training center and head for a group of targets. I flip a switch and they start coming at me, moving on their hidden track. I leap forward and start hacking off arms and legs and everything. Then I go to the huge pool, dive in and show off my swimming, everyone in District Four can do this. Except for that Coral Falcon, who lives on the streets and can't stand to go in deep water. She doesn't even look like anyone else here, she blisters and gets sunburns while everyone else tans. She doesn't even train in the training center. She ran away from an orphanage when she was seven, the little brat.

I hack and stab at the targets, willing my muscles to pop up and look even bigger than they are now. Soon it's time to go to the Reaping, I wish it wasn't already because I haven't nearly gotten exercised looking enough. But I've got to go and hurry or I can't volunteer. I'm sixteen but I'll win surely as any eighteen year old. I sweep my black hair out of the way and proceed to the Reaping. I make it a few minutes before it starts, that's enough time to stroll around and show off my muscles and my brown eyes glinting and flashing with lust for blood. The girls I see all go ohh and ahh and they're probably wishing they could get my autograph now. That Capitol escort Chaste Wilheim, he's one of the few who's a boy, steps up to the platform. He says in a cheery voice, "Hello District Four! I'm sure we're all excited to see who our very lucky tributes are today. Ladies first!" With that he reads the name Aimee Shell, I wonder who'll volunteer-"I volunteer!" I hear a shout at the edge of the crowd sound out. It's that repulsive girl Coral, what a dishonor to our District for her to represent it. She somehow looks like she didn't want to volunteer, how can that be? Plenty of other girls just tried to volunteer but weren't quick enough. The nasty girl goes to the stage and says her name, adding a cheeky little comment at the end about how she'll totally win.

Chaste gets a name out of the boys ball and says, "Roland Noddimal!" "I volunteer!" I call out to him before I realize...that was my name. Hilarious! I didn't even have to volunteer, but I did anyway. I swagger up to the stage, grab the microphone and yell to the district, "I actually am Roland Noddimal, by the way, and I'll soon have that name in the sky as Victor!" I shake hands with the wretched Coral, making it as quick as possible and trying not to touch her much, then openly wipe my hands on my shirt. I enter the building where I'll say goodbye to Mom, Dad, Justin and Julian...

Coral's POV

After shaking hands with Roland, who clearly despises me, I am ushered into the building where I'd normally have my family and friends say goodbye to me. But I don't have any! I think. I sit down in the room, in a moment the guards will realize no one is coming and then I can board the train. But a small person with a concealing hood comes in. I get up and look at her curiously. "Who are you?" I ask. The person takes off the hood and it's a blonde girl that I've never seen before. She looks at me and says seriously, "I'm someone who has advice for you. Here it is: Don't trust Yoric." Then she leaves. I board the train apprehensively, thinking of her words. Who's Yoric? Maybe it's the man who's in my nightmares, the one who made me volunteer. But the name doesn't seem to fit him, and of course I never have and never will trust him. I am still thinking about it as the train rolls to the Capitol. I realize that I won't have a token to bring in the arena with me. That makes me very sad.

Roland Noddimal's POV

I go into the room where I'll see my family again before I go in the arena. Not that I need to see them now, I'll see them in a couple of weeks. My family comes in and my parents smile proudly at me. "Good job, son," my father tells me, and my mother repeats the sentiment. Justin and Julian dance around me excitedly. "After you win can we live in Victor's Village with you? Can we? Can we?" "Sure, if you're good and do what I tell you to do." I affirm. "We won't need to! You can get an Avox! Or a whole army of them! Hurrah, no more chores!" they squeal. "Where's my token?" I ask my parents. My mother pulls it out. It's a shark carved from a shark's tooth, hanging from a string. I like it. "We have to go now, Roland. See you soon. Bye!" they all call.

I smile and lean back contentedly and hang my token around my neck. A small person with a hood on comes in and I frown at it. "Go away! I don't know you." I tell it. The person lifts the hood and it's a girl with long blonde hair. "Even though you are very rude, I have something to help you. It's advice: Don't trust Yoric." she says. She then leaves the room. I board the train to take me to the Capitol, and go into my room and sit on my velvet bed, distractedly rubbing my carved shark. Who on earth is Yoric? I've never heard of him before. He could be a threat, if he's another tribute I'll take him out immediately. Still, I feel a sense of unease. He could potentially do some damage. I better watch out for him.


	5. District Five: Arachna and Andrendus

Chapter Five

District Five Reaping

Arachna Athene's POV

"Arachna?" I wake to my little sister's face close to me. "Faun? Why are you up so early?" I mumble, trying to clear my head of sleep. "Because it's Reaping day, and I'm scared." I pick her up and hold her tight. 'Are you worried you'll be picked?" I ask her. She nods mutely. "No you won't, Faun. You're only twelve, you have your name in just once. You'll be fine." She shakes her head and presses to me. "You won't be picked, Faun. You won't be." I soothe her. "Arachna!" my mother calls. Right. I have to go to work. I have an easy job, because I'm only fifteen. It's just checking the electric fence around the district to make sure it's working. It barely gets me any money but with me doing that and my mother in a factory, we scrape together enough to pull through. We of the Athene family always have. When Faun is older she can start a minor job. When either of us have children, they will continue, and ever shall it be. "Arach-NA! Get some work done before the Reaping!" my mother screeches. "I'm going!" I say hastily, and pull on my black work clothes. I run out the door and to the electric fence.

My job is the reason I have no friends, the reason nobody likes me. If no one checked the fence, and some patches of it didn't work and weren't reported, people could get through. To get food. Everyone at school knows that I'm the one who is part of the reason why they starve, so everyone shuns me. Some have even told me they wish I would be reaped, so I would no longer plague them. This makes me cry inside, but I trudge on. Bearing my sorrow silently.

I shake off my thoughts and get to work. I carry a small notepad to be used to write down any malfunctioning fence section. "Section 1a, secure," I murmur, listening for the telltale hum of electricity. "1b, 1c, 1d, 1e," still no breaches. "2a is fine, 2b-" wait! Fence section labeled 2b is not at full electric capacity. I write that down to tell my boss, mark the ground in front of that section with a red splotch of paint, then continue checking. I finish the whole north side and most of the east side, with two more sections needing to be charged up, before it's almost time for Reaping. I tear over to the power plant and give my boss the notepad. He scans over it, making checkmarks or X's in his notebook. He slaps the money into my hand, and I look it over. Four coins. That's one more than he usually gives me, maybe because it's the Reaping and he's feeling generous? Or maybe it was a mistake and he gave me more than he meant to? If I don't tell him, I can walk away with an extra coin. If I tell him, he might take one away, and I'd only get my usual pay. But I will do the right thing, not for nothing does my mother sometimes call me her little angel.

As he turns to leave, I catch his sleeve. "Excuse me! Sir! I think you gave me too many coins, sir. You gave me four and my normal pay is three." He looks at me and his face softens. "Why, so I did. But now you get even more for being honest. Here," and he gives me two more coins! My heart jumps for joy. Now I have six coins, double the amount I usually get for pay. Just think, if I had assumed he would have taken one back and therefore left with basically stolen money, I would have four coins. For being honest, I got six coins, more money than I actually have ever held in my life.

"Well, run along, little girl. Go to the Reapings, and I hope you'll come out safe." he tells me. I whisper a quick thank you, then run home. "I got six coins!" I squeal, and give them to my mother. "That's wonderful, sweetie, but we need to go to the Reaping this instant," she says hurriedly as she hustles me and Faun out the door. I know she actually is happy about so much money, and will ask me how I got it later, but I feel rather hurt as she shoves me along to the town square.

"Hello, District Five! It's time for our tributes to be chosen! Isn't this so exciting? Let's pick the names so we won't burst from excitement! Ladies first!" The slightly crazy woman who reads the names smiles, she keeps smiling, it's a wonder her face isn't cracking apart from all the smiling. She plucks a name out of the ladies ball and reads with the same bright smile, "Faun Athene!"

No.

That's my little sister.

I cannot let her die.

Before she walks up to the stage, I grab her and move her out of harm's way. Now she is safe. "I volunteer," I announce in a deadly, cold, serious voice. "I am Arachna Athene," I continue in the strangely calm voice that isn't mine. "You will not take my sister away from me." The crazy escort woman looks at me, confused, as I stand on the stage next to her. "You're-volunteering, dear? Well, that's fine! Let's go get a boy to go with our brave girl here!" She grabs a name out of the boys' ball and unfolds it...

Andrendus Ambrilore's POV

"Get yourself over here, young man!" yells my father. Young man. Hardly. I'm only fourteen. I know what's coming. I drag myself out of bed and put on my only clothes, a soiled t-shirt made clumsily from rags and some trousers made likewise. What do you expect, just because it's the Reaping I'm going to get some super-fancy clothes to wear? Not likely.

I finally go over to my dad and he's glowering at me, furious. "What do you call this?" he says in a soft, dangerous voice. He's holding out the coins I got from fixing the electric fences yesterday. "C-coins," I mutter, petrified. I know what's coming. "And how many are there?" he asks, barely containing his rage. "Th-three," I squeak, my voice rising as I stumble back. "Three! Just three! How is that supposed to be enough to live on, you useless little thing? Two or three coins a day from you, while I spend all day cleaning the house and cooking your meals and making your clothes, and I get no thanks from you whatsoever!"

Yeah, right. Cleaning and cooking and sewing. This shack hasn't been cleaned in years, not since Mom died. She worked herself to the bone taking care of her son and her rotten husband. He beat her until she was so weak she was just sweeping the floor when she dropped down dead. Just like that. She was the only person who ever cared about me. She said I was a darling. She said that I was a handsome little boy when I came home crying because I ran into some bullies who said I was the ugliest boy in the world. My mom said my brown hair and gray eyes and light skin were the nicest a boy could have. My mom was a beauty, she had black hair and dark skin, just like the girl Arachna Athene, who lives near us. I've liked Arachna since I first saw her, but she thinks nobody likes her, and I'm too shy to tell her otherwise.

Anyway, as to my dad sewing, just look at my clothes. They are rags stitched together with bits of string. His are no better. As for cooking...well, if the devil told me I could have a meal from the Capitol in exchange for my dad's soul, I would gladly accept. It's not like he has one anyway. My dad's cooking is whatever scraps he can stir himself to find in the streets, and I barely ever get any of it. Can you see how he hates me?

He snarls at me, and whispers menacingly, "You get out there and do your job, boy. You get outside and do your job and get at least five coins, or I'm through with you." I trip and fall in astonishment. "Five coins? I've never made five coins before in one day, even when I work overtime! And we have to go to the Reaping soon!" I realize my mistake immediately. Never talk back to my dad. I guess I forgot. A moment before he does it, I know what he's going to do. I hear a crack on my shoulder and then I feel it. White-hot pain, searing across my whole arm. I fall to the floor and shake, willing myself not to cry out in pain. I then scramble to my feet and run out the door, his mocking laughter following me, chasing me all the way to my work.

"Where've you been, kid? Hurry on up, you've got to fix those fence sections as soon as the girl gets back," my boss tells me. I see Arachna run in, yes we work at the same job basically yet I've never gotten the nerve to speak to her. I scan the malfunctioning fence sections on her notepad, memorize them, then tear out the door. I zoom to the first section, then dig frantically next to it till I reach the mini-generator, which isn't running at full capacity. I plug my electric generator I carry with me into it, it starts up and I leap back to avoid the crackle of electricity. I shovel the dirt back into the hole and race for the next bit. And so it goes, I finish in record time and go back to the boss. I hold my hand out to him, expecting three coins, in which case I'll be doomed by my father, but he smiles at me. "I'll be generous, here's some extra coin," he tells me, and gives me five coins. Five. I'm not doomed.

I run home and shove the money into my father' hands. "I got five coins, now you won't get me?" I ask hopefully. He growls, obviously he wanted me to not get enough so he could punish me. "Well, the safety money amount just got raised to six, boy, so you are doomed." he tells me. "Now, we'll go to the Reaping," he snickers.

As we go to the square, my father shoves me away and I land in a heap on the ground. When I get up, my father is talking rapidly to a peacekeeper in a low voice so I can't hear any. He then hurries into a small building, led by the peacekeeper, and a minute later emerges with a very fancy suit on. It's the nicest I've ever seen, it's covered with ruffles and it even has a tie. I stare at it in wonder but keep my mouth shut, if living with him has taught me anything it's how to do that. We arrive so late that the girl is already on the stage and it's-Arachna Athene! No! I cry inside, but can't let it show. The name for the boys is being unfolded when the peacekeeper who was talking to my father runs to the escort and whispers something. She looks puzzled but then says, "Andrendus Ambrilore!"

My dad just sold me to the Hunger Games for a nice suit.

I'm sure of it.

I shake hands with Arachna and walk into the room where I would say my goodbyes but there is no one who can say them to me. I am alone.

Arachna Athene's POV

I enter the goodbye room and promptly collapse on the couch. This is all too much for me, too much. I'm scared. My mother and Faun come in and for a moment we all just hug each other, not saying anything. Then the silence breaks. "You shouldn't have volunteered for me Arachna, you shouldn't have!" weeps Faun. My mother is still holding me tight, not saying anything. "I could've gone in, I could have tried, but you're going in and it's all my fault, it's my fault you're going to diiiie," gasps Faun. I grab her and make her look me straight in the eyes. "Faun, listen. Just listen. Listen to me!" I yell at her because she's heading into a total breakdown. She gulps down tears and falls silent. "I am not going to die. Understand?" She sniffs and nods. My mother finally gets up. "Arachna, I'm sorry I was cross with you earlier today, you didn't deserve it. I love you very, very much, and you can win this thing. You can do it." She gives me a spider made of silver to put in my pocket. Faun hugs me one more time and whispers, "I love you, Arachna. Please come home." They have to go now but Faun is heading into hysterics and won't let go of me and I'm scared she'll be shot, the peacekeepers might do that. The last thing I say to her is just this. "Faun, you have to let me go." Two meanings in this. One, release me so the peacekeeper won't shoot her. Two. Accept that I could very well be dead in a little more than a week, let me go from her life, know that I might not come home. She lets me go and I board the train. I put the spider in my pocket and sit at the window, watching the world go by. The boy from my district comes and sits next to me. I don't care. I don't care about anything but Faun and my mother right now.

Andrendus Ambrilore's POV

I go into the room where I'd say goodbye, if I had anyone to say it to. No one comes in. Why would they? Nobody loves me. I sit there in silence until a guard comes in and takes me to the train. I see Arachna sitting at the train window. I join her. Now I'm sitting next to the girl I've liked for years, about to have to try to kill her. I won't. Who cares what the Capitol wants me to do, they can't make me sever my humanity. I wish I could comfort Arachna. She needs it more than I do. She has a family to come back to. To come home for. I have no one.


	6. District Six: Aquilla and Finley

District Six Reaping

Aquilla Ursulae's POV

I wake up and immediately reach for my knife. It's necessary, ever since my father and I found that old chest of coins under the house. We had been starving, dirt poor, both working double jobs even though I'm only fourteen. Then we were looking for roots to dig up and eat but we found a buried chest of money. Everything changed after that. We bought a nicer house instead of our little hut we had before. We ate as much as we needed. We got actual clothes instead of our rags. But there was a downside. Scores of starving people came to our house, begging for food. It pained us to refuse, but if we had given a few of them food, more would come. More and more, too many for us to stop. And sooner or later, they'd break into the house to get it. They could hurt us. That's why I keep a knife with me, hidden in my mattress.

"Aquilla?" my father says sleepily. "Are you okay?" I go over to him and hug him. "Yeah, Dad, I'm fine." Just as fine as you can be on Reaping day, that is. I go to my dresser and pick out a gray outfit, nothing special. I could have my pick of any pretty clothes I want, but I don't really like anything fancy. Besides, not much goes with my red hair. I'd rather wear brown to match my eyes but my brown dress is, well, a dress. I am not girly, I really don't like dresses. Anyway, a dress won't work for what I'm going outside to do. I slip out the door, into the street, and start to run. I run and run, I run until I get to the electric fence. Right now it isn't working, so I slip through. I run to the tallest tree I can find. Then I climb it. I'm at the very top of it, now I do the best part. I reach to a branch on the next tree and grab it, then swing to another branch. Hanging from my legs hooked around the branch, I juggle my knife so quickly it's a blur. I then put it back in my belt and swing to the next tree. I go from tree to tree until I'm right over my house, then drop. Right onto the roof. I slide down the drainpipe, then twist my body so I sail through the window. Into my bed. There, morning exercise done. I'm ready to have breakfast.

It may seem extreme, but this is all usual for me. Being fourteen, I suppose it is astonishing, but I've it done since I was twelve. In case I should ever be reaped. Now, having done it for years, it's second nature. I'd have a fair chance of winning if I was reaped. You'd be surprised how many tributes from District Six have died, we don't win very often. It's not as if we're an outer district, so it's odd how few victors we have. I, however, would stand a chance. More than a chance, really. I'm great at so many things you need in the arena.

Now I'll really eat breakfast, so I get a bowl of stew and a cookie, normally I wouldn't eat a cookie for breakfast but it's Reaping day. I'll give myself a favor. I gobble it down and go to wake up my dad so we won't be late. "Dad," I whisper, he doesn't wake up. "Da-ad, wake up. We have to go to the Reaping." Still he sleeps. I must resort to drastic measures. I fill my lungs and yell, "Dad, you slept so long I was Reaped and won the Hunger Games, now I'm a victor and you're still asleep!" He jerks awake. "Oh, really? Good job, Aquilla. Hey wait..." I laugh. "Come on, Dad, we have to go to the Reaping now." He gets up and gets dressed, eats his breakfast, and then we go to the Reaping.

Along the way, since I practice whenever possible, I hop onto a porch step and fling myself onto the roof above. I then run along it, faster than my dad can go on the ground. I turn a cartwheel, then a backflip. My dad looks up at me and shakes his head, though I know he's smiling. He rolls his eyes, "Showoff." I pretend to be indignant, and climb still higher up a precarious ledge. I, of course, being a humongous showoff, proceed to stand on the toes of one foot on the ledge. I become more and more confident, and start to turn pirouettes. A little girl standing below me and gazing in awe at my display squeaks with fear as I suddenly topple. I'm going to land right on my little admirer if I don't do something! Flinging my legs out to the sides in a perfect split, they catch on opposite windowsills. For a moment my entire body weight is on my contorted legs, and they threaten to snap. I peel them off and slide gracefully down on a pipe. I execute a bow. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your presence today. Goodbye, and do come again," I announce.

A peacekeeper on the side looks at me oddly and I shudder. He has a disturbing look in his eyes, and I hurry along without any more disturbance. As I reach the square, I see that creepy peacekeeper whispering to the bubbly escort, and I know he's talking about me. That can't be good at all. The escort (who has ridiculous blue hair) smiles and nods. I think I catch the words 'talented' and 'a good show'. Could this mean what I think it does? If so...well, I'm glad I've trained. The escort, oh yeah her name is Tamara Malanda, claps her hands so everyone will be quiet and listen. "Hello, District Six! What an honor to be here, I'm so excited, and I bet you are too! As we all know, a year ago, in the forty-third hunger games this district had a victor and here he is!" she beckons and a tall boy of eighteen steps onto the stage. His name is Kolai Winnicky, and he's much cooler than his name sounds. He won last year with great skills of hiding in plain sight. It was actually really funny, he snuck up on the Career pack and stood next to a tree but they didn't see him. Everyone watching was like, "He's right behind them! They can't see him! Turn around, already!" but the Careers didn't and they got knifed.

"All right everyone," trills Tamara, "Let's get our lucky girl for this year, maybe we'll have another year just as good as the last one!" She gets a name and barely glances at it, and says "Aquilla Ursulae!"

Yep, my hunch was right. The peacekeeper thought I'd be a good show for the Capitol because I just had to show off. That's me, acting before I think. Fortunately I'm prepared, very, more than whoever the girl who was actually on the paper would be. I skip to the stage (got to make the Capitol love me, that I'm so spunky) and grin at the district. "Hi everyone! I'm so glad to be here, this is going to be great! I'm sure I'll win," I giggle, while almost retching in disgust of myself. "Good, darling, we don't want cowards here you know," Tamara says brightly. She then yanks a slip out of the boy's ball...

Finley Burgess's POV

"Finley?" my little sister whispers. "What, Danielle?" I ask her. "I'm very scared, Finley. Today two people will be brought to the Capitol and they'll die. What if you're one of them?" I cuddle her, even though she's nine and says she's too old to be cuddled. "I'm not going to be picked, Danilie. I won't." She pokes me in the eye. "Don't call me that." "Call you what, Danilie?" I ask innocently. She pokes me harder. "Don't call me Danilie, you meanie." "What? I didn't call you Danilieyoumeanie." I hold back a snort of laughter, I love to tease her like that. She groans. "Cindy!"

Great, she's gone and dragged our big sister into it, our grownup sister. That'll put a stop to the teasing, Cindy is as cranky as a bear when she wakes up. Especially when it's Reaping day. There is a very good reason for that, her best friend Maple was reaped three years ago and was slowly tortured to death by a career. Cindy was broken-hearted and locked herself into her room for days. Even worse, just the year after Danielle was born, our mother's twelve year old cousin was reaped, and she was blind. Our parents tried to stop her, they tried to save her but mom couldn't volunteer for her because she was too old. For trying to save an innocent blind twelve year old who had zero chance of winning, our parents were shot and killed by peacekeepers. I was only seven, but I still remember what happened to the cousin. Because she was blind and couldn't stay balanced, she fell off her platform and exploded in the mines.

"Finley." Cindy is up, she knows that whatever made Danielle call for her had to have been my fault. That isn't without reason, I am a troublemaker. "Yes, Cinder-snap?" I love making nicknames for people, I don't know why, but Cinder-snap just seemed so funny for Cindy I couldn't resist. She growls. "Cinder-snap? Really? Why don't I call you Finkle, how does that sound." "Because, my dear Cinder-snap, Finkle isn't nearly as funny as Cinder-snap." I patiently explain.

"Come on, guys, let's have breakfast. I'm starving," complains Danielle. Food. I'd like some too, but we don't have any. I would've entered for tesserae but Cindy wouldn't let me. Cindy and I gave the last of our meager storage to Danielle, but didn't tell her there was no more. It's just too terrible. We knew this would eventually happen, but tried to stall it as long as possible by eating one small meal a day. We're always hungry, so hungry that I'd almost volunteer today at the Reaping just for some food from the Capitol. But I wouldn't really volunteer, Danielle and Cindy care for me too much even if I am a pest.

"Um, Finley? Is there any food left? Cindy?" says Danielle in a small voice. Cindy sighs and gives the answer we've been dreading for years. "No, Danielle. There is no more food in the house." Danielle's lip trembles but she doesn't cry, she's a tough kid.

"Okay, let's get ready for the Reaping," Cindy tells us. Ignoring the grumbling of my stomach, I pull a yellow shirt over my head and it catches on my black hair. "Oww, bad shirt," I tell the shirt. Cindy looks at me askance. "You're...talking to your shirt?" she asks me. "Why yes I am, dear Cinder-snap." She shakes her head and gets dressed. Danielle comes over to me, already dressed in a pink dress. I wave her away. "Don't come near me Danielle, my freckles are allergic to pink things," I warn her. Did I mention I'm really weird? She giggles and wraps around me. "Sneeze, freckles, sneeze!" she sings. I pretend to sneeze. "And my eyes don't like anything blue because they're blue, Cindy, don't wear that blue dress," I tell her. She comes over to me wearing her blue dress. "And what else am I supposed to wear besides this blue dress when it's my only outfit?" she asks me. I sigh, "Never mind, let's go."

We arrive in time and a peacekeeper whispers something to the escort Tamara. She gets out a girl's name and barely looks at it and then says, "Aquilla Ursulae!" Okay, my nickname for her will be...Aquiver! That sounds good. Aquilla, newly christened Aquiver, goes to the stage and says something cheery. Tamara gets a boy's name and shouts, "Finley Burgess!"

Oh dear.

I'm going in the Hunger Games, what joy. Such fun.

I stagger up to the stage and shake hands with Aquiver, then enter the justice building to say goodbye to Danielle and Cindy...

Aquilla Ursulae's POV

After shaking hands with Finley, the boy who is well known for his goofiness, I go into the justice building. I am led to the room where I'll see my dad for the last time. Poor Dad, he's all alone now. He has nobody. He comes in with me and hugs me, I hug him back and no words are needed. I'm not crying because I don't want to make my dad cry. He presses me to his chest and I know I might never see him again, I'm so sad I just want to die. Well, not really, but I might die. In the space of a few weeks. "Daddy, I'm going to win," I whisper, even though I know it's not true. Wait, that's not true, I might win! I'm really good, I've trained myself well. "Aquilla, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this happened, honey," he says, and I know he's fighting back tears. "Daddy, it's okay. I'm going to win this, I know it. I'm good at all kinds of stuff. I promise I'll win, Daddy," I assure him. He gives me a beautifully carved eagle, it's made from gold and it has a hook so it can be an earring. "It was your mother's before she died. Your name means eagle, Aquilla. Be like one. Fly above everyone else, you can do this, soar away from the arena," he tells me, and gives me a final kiss. He has to go but before he does, he tells me, "I love you, Aquilla," and I tell him, "I love you, Daddy," and then I'm put on the train. As the train rolls away from District Six, I howl like a wounded animal and collapse onto my bed in my room. I wish I could really be an eagle and fly away forever, and be safe.

Finley Burgess's POV

The goodbye room. Equipped with a single couch. I sit on the couch and wait for Cindy and Danielle to come in. They do, and Danielle flings her arms around me. Cindy picks me up and squeezes me really tightly. Danielle shrieks like an alarm, "Finley you can't go! Finley I can't let you go to the arena!" She holds my hand in a vicelike grip. Cindy strokes my hair, not saying anything. "Shh, it's okay, guys. I'll be back before you know it, all right? Really, I'll be fine," I tell them, trying to convince myself and them. It doesn't really work. "I'm never going to see you again, Finley! You're going to die," wails Danielle. Cindy sniffs and hugs me still tighter. "I don't have a token for you, Finley. I'm sorry," she says. "I do! Finley, take this," and Danielle gives me a green bead. "Um, okay. Thanks, Danilie. Bye, Cinder-snap. I love you," I tell them as they are taken away. "We love you too, Finley, goodbye," I hear them call. I board the train and head for the dining car. I'm sad beyond measure but I don't let it show.


	7. District Seven: Willow and Yoric

Chapter Seven

District Seven Reaping

Willow Fields's POV

I'm cold. The house is freezing. For some reason I feel very sad, like something bad is happening today. Then I remember, it's Reaping day. I get up and shiver, and put on a blue dress. It's too small for me, but which of my clothes aren't? I haven't gotten new clothes since Mama was alive; that was when I was eight. Now I'm twelve and wearing eight year old clothes, but I'm used to it. "Daddy?" I call softly for him. He doesn't answer, so I guess he's asleep. I go outside to collect some firewood, even though I'm small I can pick up logs and handle an axe pretty well. I gather up a big armload and run back to the house. I'm pretty fast and I can even run with a dress on and holding firewood.

Today is my first Reaping, and I have just one slip in. I would've taken out tesserae but my daddy wouldn't let me. He says it's not safe. I know I won't be picked because there are so very many slips in the ball. I have one slip in thousands; the odds are definitely in my favor. I still can't help feeling scared. The Capitol is so mean. But if I was reaped, maybe someone would volunteer. Lots of people like me and surely they wouldn't let someone twelve years old who looks like an angel go into the Hunger Games. Everyone does tell me I look like an angel; I have blue eyes and blond wavy hair that reaches my waist.

I get back to the house and dump the wood next to the fireplace. Ow, that hurt carrying all those logs. Maybe I just should've waited for Daddy to wake up so he could help me. But I'm supposed to help Daddy; he shouldn't have to do extra work besides his lumberjack job. He stays out all day and cuts wood, so when he gets home I make dinner for him. I'm not very good at it, but he says it tastes good even when I burn it. He's a really nice daddy and I love him very much.

"Willow?" Now Daddy's up and I haven't made breakfast yet! I race to the fireplace and measure a small amount of oats and water into the pot. "I'm making food, Daddy," I tell him as I start a fire and put some wood on it. "Okay, are you dressed? We have to go to the Reaping soon," he says. "I'm all dressed and I got some wood for the fire while you were sleeping, and now I'm making porridge," I say proudly. "Good girl, I'm impressed with how responsible you're being lately. I got you a surprise yesterday. When we come home from the Reaping I'll give it to you." "Oh goody!" I squeal. Daddy's surprises are always so fun. Once he actually got me a pet kitten he found in the woods. I named her Sunny because she was yellow, and I loved her very much but one day she was just gone. I was very sad.

Now the porridge is ready, and my dad and I start to eat it at once. We finish it soon. I'm very surprised that it tastes nice; I did a good job on it today. My dad ruffles my hair. "That was delicious, Willow. Do that for every meal, will you?" I scowl at him and straighten my now fuzzy hair. "Dad. Don't ruffle my hair, it makes it fuzzy and frizzy," I scold him. "Oh, so sorry your highness. I'll just do this," and he grabs me and tickles me and throws me in the air. I shriek with laughter and try to tell him my dress is flying up, but I'm breathless and dizzy. I finally get enough air in my lungs to gasp stop, stop and he finally stops. "Well, that was fun wasn't it Willow?" he asks, smiling mischievously. I wrinkle my nose and put my dress right. "Hardly. Now let's go to the Reaping or we'll be late. Come on, Daddy," and we go out the door.

Oh good, we have a boy escort this year. Last year there was a girl escort and she was so weird and annoying. She had a dress the shape and size of the Reaping ball. Big and round. It was even slightly see-through, ew! Capitol fashion is so weird. The escort introduces himself as Seymour Lisbon, and we all politely applaud for his first year as escort. He flashes a blindingly bright smile with perfectly gleaming white teeth. "Now let's pick our lucky tributes for today, and we'll be courteous and let the ladies go first, of course!" Forget what I thought earlier, he's just as crazy as a girl escort. Does he really think we want to go first? Or, at all? I'm so scared I might be chosen, it's only my first year. I'm terrified as he reaches into the Reaping ball and draws out a name. He flashes another blinding smile and slowly unfolds the paper. Is he trying to torture us? He reads out the name, "Willow Fields!"

Why me?

Why was I just picked?

How did he grab the one slip in thousands that had my name on it?

How did someone who just likes to pick flowers and smile at people end up like this?

I hear gasps and anguished cries. Everyone knows me. Everyone loves me. Nobody wants me to go in these games. I'm only twelve. I know that without a doubt I will die in the bloodbath. I look around hopefully for anyone who might volunteer and save me. Nobody does. I walk up to the stage, desolate. My last hope gone. Seymour smiles and pulls me up on the platform next to him. "Hello, Willow Fields. You're just twelve, aren't you?" I nod mutely. "Any volunteers for our young tribute?" he calls to the district. Nobody comes. For a moment, I think I see sincere pity for me on Seymour's face, but it goes away in an instant to be replaced by customary Capitol cheerfulness. "Well, now it's time for our boy tribute!" he says, and pulls out a paper for the boy's name...

Yoric Garrison's POV

I grin. Today is going to be the best day ever. The beginning of a new life. The day when I volunteer for the Hunger Games. I am so winning this. I made myself wait until I was seventeen, that's definitely old enough to win. I get up and put on a gray suit. I talked the mayor's son into letting me 'borrow' it. Ha. I sure fooled him.

I'm in an orphanage because my parents tried to run away from the district just after I was born. They got caught and whipped to death. Not as if I remember it happening, I was an infant. I like being in an orphanage, it means there isn't a parent always watching me all the time. When I was seven, a woman tried to adopt me because she was charmed by my tanned skin, smooth brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. I was the cutest kid in the world, she said, so she wanted me to be her son. I sure showed her not to mess with Yoric Garrison. All the other kids at the orphanage would have done anything to be adopted. I made sure I wouldn't be adopted. I wonder if that woman still has the scars I gave her.

I grin a feral grin and sneak to the dining room to listen to the other early risers. I hear one of them talking loudly to all the others, "Did you hear that Yoric is going to volunteer today? Imagine! Hope he dies in the bloodbath." The other kids don't exactly like me, but there's a reason. Here's the reason.

I leap out from the corner where I was hiding and pin the outspoken boy to his chair. I give him an evil look. "Hello, George! Fancy meeting you here," I say breezily. All the kids in the room are frozen in shock. "Got any food, my boy?" I see he has a bowl of mush on the table in front of him. I snatch it away and knock him off his chair, so he hits his head on the floor. "Naughty George, mustn't eat until Yoric has his food, don't let it happen again," I warn him. He stares, still stunned, as I plop down in a seat and eat the mush. Gross, but I'll have far better food at the Capitol.

"Hello, Yoric," someone who just came in the room greets me. There, at the corner is my girlfriend. She's the only person who doesn't hate me. In fact, it's quite the opposite. She likes me, and she thinks I like her back. I tell her she's my one soft spot in my hard shell I've built around me, that she's the only one who understands me. "Hi, Holly," I say. "Are you volunteering?" She scoffs, "No, Yoric, we aren't Careers, you know. I am not going to volunteer. You aren't going to, are you?" Her green eyes fill with fear. "I am volunteering, Holly. Don't worry, I'll win easily."

She sniffs. "You're going to be late, you know." I shake my head. "Not if I take off now!" I yell back over my shoulder at her. I'm out the door and immediately into the- forest. Yep, that's always where I go in the morning. To do something...to help me practice for the arena. I check my snare. I made a boy make some snares for me once, and I'm using them well. I catch at least a rabbit a day, but not to eat. For a different purpose entirely.

There's a rabbit in the trap I check first, what luck! I won't have to check any others. I draw a long, cold, smooth steel blade from my belt. The rabbit struggles in fear and tries to get away; the trap was made so that it wouldn't kill the creature. I slide the knife through the trap and free the rabbit and it tries to run away immediately. I'm too fast for it to escape, I catch it and cut off one of its feet. "Aha, lucky rabbit's foot," I murmur, holding it up. I cut off every single one of its feet, then toss the still living, bleeding, helpless rabbit and all the feet but one onto the ground.

I tuck one of the feet into my belt. It can be my token for the arena. It's a lucky rabbit's foot, so I'll be sure to have very good luck. I need to go to the Reaping now. I jump up and run for the town square, branches whipping at my face as I tear through the forest. I make it just in time and watch the escort reach for a girl's name. I frown because the escort is a boy. That's bad for me! I was hoping to be able to charm the escort, because I assumed it would be a girl. He unfolds the paper, smiles, and reads out "Willow Fields!" I smirk, that's the twelve year old I stole the cat from. I skinned the cat and hung the skin in front of her house but it blew away and she didn't see it. She's going to be so easy to trick and kill. I don't like that long golden hair of hers blowing around as she walks to the platform. Maybe I'll cut it all off before I kill her. Nobody volunteers for her, and then it's time for the boys. The escort takes a slip of paper out of the boy's ball and announces, "Ash Harding!" I run up to the stage and say, "I'm Yoric Garrison, I volunteer." I hop to the top of the platform but suddenly I'm

f

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off the stage. I land with a sickening crack and I know my left arm is broken. I imagine the odds of me winning going down from one hundred to fifty, maybe even less than that. I hear screams and shouts from all around me but I get up and mount the platform again. I smile and try to ignore my agonizingly painful dangling strip of arm by my side. "I'm fine, everyone! Don't worry, I'll still win." I shake hands with that silly little Willow, then go to see Holly before I leave...

Willow Field's POV

The room where I'll see Daddy one last time is pretty. Soft. Before Daddy comes in, I think of how sorry I am for Yoric. He volunteered, so he feels pretty confident, but he didn't count on breaking his arm. He has no chance of winning. I guess I should be glad, that's less tributes to stop me getting home, but all I can think of is poor Yoric. Then Daddy comes in and I forget all about Yoric. He hugs me and kisses me and strokes my hair. I tell him, "I'm scared, Daddy. I don't want to die, but I don't want to kill anyone. I'll always love you, Daddy. I want to stay with you forever. What will I do?" He shakes his head. "I don't know, Willow. Just..just be yourself. The Capitol will love you. You'll have lots of sponsors. Please try to come home for me, Willow, I love you more than anything else in the world." He gives me a glass ball filled with water and sparkles. "This was going to be your surprise. For after the Reaping. Do you like it?" he asks hopefully. I'm stunned. How on Earth did he get this? It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. "Daddy, I love it. It's brilliant." He nods. 'And Willow-" a peacekeeper bursts in and starts to take him away because his time is up. He tries to finish what he was saying but he's gone too soon. I'm pushed onto the train by a peacekeeper. I go to my room and crumple into a heap on the ground. I let out all my tears. I'm never going to see Daddy again.

Yoric Garrison's POV

The moment I sit down, Holly bursts in. She hugs me, crying and sniffling. "Your arm is broken, Yoric! Your arm is broken, and now you'll die, and I'll be all alone, and-" "Be quiet, Holly," I say dismissively. She looks hurt. "What do you mean? Are you mad at me, Yoric? Don't you like me?" How pathetic. "See, Holly, I've never liked you. Not once." Her mouth falls open. "You're just someone who didn't hate me like everyone else did, so you were someone to talk to. That's all. Find someone else, and don't try to move in with me in Victor's Village when I win and come home." She starts to cry, and runs out of the room. Ha, ha, what a useless thing she was anyway. I'd rather have a girlfriend with some fire, some spirit, something fierce. Like a Career! Yeah, that's what I'll go for in the arena. After all, how better to make her trust me, if I 'fall in love with her'. Maybe I really will, until I kill her, of course.

**What a terrible person Yoric is, and what an innocent person Willow is. So, I only have four reviews, and I'd really appreciate some more, and any more reviews I get, I'll reply to! Especially if they're good, long reviews! Thank you!**


	8. District Eight: Ama and Damian

Chapter Eight

District Eight Reaping

"A lot of people are afraid to tell the truth, to say no. That's where toughness comes into play. Toughness is not being a bully. It's having backbone."

-Robert Kiyosaki

Ama Jordan's POV

"Aaaama!"

I'm jolted from my sleep with a loud call. A call from my big brother Stanislaus.

"Whaaat?" I mutter, rubbing grit out of my eyes. Why does he have to wake me up so early? It must be, what, four in the morning?

"Ama. Get your lazy self out of that nest. I, for one, like to consume food. Which will only be attained if we find or steal some. So get up."

"Fine, Stan," I moan, dragging myself out of the pile of rags I was sleeping in. Yep, I'm a street rat, and proud. Stan and I are independent of rules, so long as we don't get caught. Which obviously hasn't happened yet.

I pull on my ragged, formerly red and blue dress. Then run my fingers through my impossibly tangled dirty-blonde hair. My calloused feet are shoes enough, so now I'm ready.

Ready to enter the bustle of District Eight's lower class, the Rathole.

Dogs barking, babies crying, merchants wheedling, men and women shouting. The thieves like me and my brother, winding through the crowd, begging of passerby, snatching things here and there as shopkeepers yell after them.

And the rats.

Rats, scuttling everywhere, under feet and stalls. Into walls, into houses. You can't escape from the rats. They're why this whole part of District Eight is called the Rathole. I hate rats.

One of them, beady eyes and long, bald tail, runs over my foot. It's all I can do to not squeal and leap a mile into the air. Stanislaus sees this and laughs. "Get over it, Ames. You'll see worse in your life."

A shadow passes over his face, and he turns away to hide it. He's remembering Mum and Dad. You see, they had supported the rebels. So when the Capitol found out, they murdered our parents in their beds. It was when I was five, eight years ago. Stanislaus was seven. Now I'm thirteen and he's fifteen, but we both still remember that bloody night. We always will. Stan carried me to safety, out into the street, where we've been ever since.

"Ama! Head out of the clouds, please and thank you," hisses Stan, pulling me out of my memories. "Wealthified woman over there. See her? Purple dress, purple shoes. Merchant class, blonde and blue-eyed." Like us, I think, but don't voice it. Better not remind him again.

"Yeah, I see her. She's buying a basket of rolls. Do I go for them or her pockets?" I ask, dodging a large family to get nearer to the rich woman. "Both, you can handle it. Hand in basket, hand in pocket. Go for it."

I'm off before he finishes the sentence.

Ruffling up my hair and scratching my face to appear piteous and wounded, I wander over to her. "Please, good lady, give a poor girl a penny," I whine, while sneaking one hand into her full basket. Mmm, fragrant, fresh bread. Haven't had some of that for ages.

"No! Get away from me, you filthy street rat!" she shrieks, and tries to step on my foot. I dodge nimbly out of the way, snatching a roll in the process. "Oh, but please, lady," I continue, stuffing the roll into my clumsily sewed on pocket, "I'm so hungry. I haven't had anything to eat in ages. Please?"

She draws herself up, affronted. "Never, you little beggar. It's not my fault that your parents had to go and have you when they were too poor to take care of you. Or did they abandon you?"

I feel a rush of heat come to my face, and I know it is scarlet. With rage. How dare this, this ignorant, pompous woman, insult my parents?

"They...are...dead!" I snarl, and lift my foot to give her one bloody painful stomp, but stop. I'm not a bully. What I am is a thief.

And so I grab her whole basket of rolls and take off back to my hidey-hole.

It takes a moment, so stunned is she, but a moment later I hear, "Stop! Thief! You rotten thief! Help me, that wretched beggar stole from me!"

Each word pounds into my head like a nail into a coffin, but I keep running. I can't let the peacekeepers catch me. But it would be worse if I led them to Stan. What do I do?

This question is answered for me when someone behind me puts a hand over my mouth and drags me into an abandoned house.

I bite the hand and deliver a few choice punches before I realize it's Stan. He releases me and rubs his bleeding hand. "Man, Ama, I was saving you. Killing me isn't very good payback."

"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice, my cheeks aflame for the second time today. Stan laughs and slaps me on the back. "I'm just teasing you, kid, it's fine. I'm okay. You don't have to- oh my gosh!"

He sees the basket of rolls and pulls it out of my clenched fist. "You got the whole thing? This is better than a few coins! For once, we'll have a real breakfast!"

We feast on hot buttered rolls until we are full and the basket is empty. "I am stuffed," I declare, and sit back against the wall. "So am I," says Stan. "Shall we go to the Reaping on our full stomachs?"

"Yes, we shall," I affirm.

At the Reaping, I can barely keep from laughing at the sight of our escort, Lula Snicket. She's covered in pink and purple sparkles. Her heels are glowing red, and her hair is a fluffy magenta mass. When she trills out, "Welcome, District Eight, to the Reaping!" in that absurd Capitol accent, I can't help it. I burst into a hearty peal of laughter. She's just so funny.

But there's nothing funny about the girl's name she calls.

"Ama Jordan!"

Damian Cross's POV

"...So if z plus y equals seventeen, and z plus eight equals ten, what are z and y?" I ask, surveying my four little sisters for a spark of comprehension. This was the easiest question I could think of. Pippa scratches her head. "Uh, is z 10 and y seven?"

"No. That doesn't make any sense at all, and there is no logical conclusion for that," I sigh, but gather her up into my arms. "Z is two and y is fifteen, okay?"

"Okay," she says cheerfully, and wanders off to play with Sansa, Roslin, and Kanni. I should've expected it, but it's frustrating that nobody understands what I'm talking about. Even my parents.

I learned this stuff from old textbooks I found dumped in a basement. The basement happened to be in the Justice Building, so I had to escape and leave the books. But whatever I see, I remember. So I even know which page each problem was on.

Hi. I'm Damian Cross. I'm thirteen years old. And I am a genius.

I'm not boasting. Fortunately, my family is fairly wealthy, so I can have all the schooling I want. We're merchant class. Somehow I managed to have brown hair and green eyes rather than the usual merchant features.

Anyway, I've been sent to the best schools in District Eight. I've baffled the best teachers, even the ones specially sent from the Capitol. I astonished them with my intellect. They tried to take me away to the Capitol to do experiments on me, but I wouldn't let them. Rather, my parents didn't let them. I was too shy to talk to them. My mother and father knew I'd be too scared to do anything if I were in a strange place.

I can't leave my family.

I peer out the window overlooking the Rathole. That poor, filthy part of District Eight.

Something catches my eye, out of all the ragged people milling about. A girl. A girl with dirty blonde hair is darting through the street. She has a red and blue dress on.

It's funny, but she stands out somehow. Everyone else is wearing browns and blacks. Dark clothes of coarse cloth. But her bright red and blue cloth that I can see is finer, even though it's dirty and torn, shows that it's a merchant class dress.

My mind flashes through the possibilities. She could have stolen it, someone could have given it to her, and there are plenty of other options, but one stands out to me. It's hers. She used to be merchant class, and something happened. This is the most reasonable option. After all, she has merchant features. Blonde hair and pale skin.

"Damian, sweetie. What are you doing?"

I turn around. My mother is holding a tray of toast.

"What? Oh, nothing, Mother. Is it time?"

She nods, and I go to fetch my coat. We have something to do before the Reaping.

While Father stays behind with my sisters, Mother and I take the toast outside into the Rathole.

Some of them don't take charity, and even curse us for being wealthy while they are poor. But seeing the awed gratitude of the children, the smiles on their muddy faces, hearing their happy shouts- it makes up for it.

A tiny girl who looks about six years old comes up to me.

"Can I have some bread, please, Mister?" she says hopefully.

"Of course. And you don't have to call me Mister. I'm Damian. What's your name?" I hand her a large piece, one of the biggest. She breaks into a gap-toothed grin.

"My name's Cammy, it's short for Cambric. And thanks very much."

She trots away with her treasure.

After all the toast is gone, it's time to head for the Reaping. We fetch Father, Pippa, Sansa, Roslin and Kanni from the house first.

My second Reaping. None of my sisters have to worry yet, because the oldest, Pippa, is ten. I wish I were nineteen instead of thirteen.

The escort Lula Snicket looks even goofier than at the last Reaping. When she trills, "Welcome, District Eight, to the Reaping!" I hear a girl laugh.

"Ama Jordan!"

Some unlucky girl was chosen. Who is it, I wonder?

A blonde girl who looks very familiar gasps and bursts out of the crowd. Was it the girl I saw earlier? That would be an incredible coincidence. She takes off running out of the square. Two peacekeepers chase after her.

There's silence for a minute. Did she get away? That's never happened before. They'd have to draw a new name.

Unfortunately, they caught her. The peacekeepers drag her back up to the stage. She's not making any sound, but she's furiously struggling to make them let her go. She kicks, claws, punches, and bites, but they hold on.

Finally, they dump her onto the stage. She brushes herself off and glares mutinously at Lula Snicket.

I hear a stifled sob from close behind me. It's an older boy who looks like the girl, Ama. He must be her brother. Maybe he'll volunteer for the boy tribute so he can protect his sister. I'd do that for any of my sisters.

"And our boy tribute is Damian Cross!"

Good heavens. I'm doomed.

A peacekeeper marches over to me and starts pulling me to the stage.

"No! Please!" I cry, trying to twist away from him. "I don't want to go! Please don't make me go!"

Desperately, I turn to the brother.

"Please! You could save your sister! Volunteer!" I shout, begging him to do something, anything. I can't go into the Games. I've never hurt anyone in my life.

It's no use. He retreats into the crowd, and I'm deposited on the stage. Ama and I are made to shake hands. Up close, I recognize her for sure.

"It's you," I whisper. "You're my blonde girl."

She draws back.  
"Excuse me?" she says, affronted. Come to think of it, that sounded awkward. Not that it matters in this situation.

Ama Jordan's POV

I'm led away from the weird boy into the goodbye room. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm upset that Stan didn't volunteer. I suppose I'm a terrible person for it, but he's my big brother. He's always protected me. Until now.

He rushes into the goodbye room.

"Oh, Ama, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I love you."

He hugs me until I'm gasping for air. I kiss him on the cheek.

"I know. It's okay. I love you too, Stan. I love you so much."

I wish I hadn't been mad. If he volunteered, at least one of us would have died. That can't happen.

"What do I do?" I say, trying to keep calm. "I'm not a murderer. A thief, yes, but I can't kill. What should I do?"

He fixes me with a grim look.

"You should do whatever it takes to come out of the arena. I don't care if you have to tear apart every other tribute, just do it and win, Ama."

"But what about my district partner? Dami-whatsit? He's weird, but killing my own district partner would just be mean."

"I don't care. I need you to come home. No matter what. You're all I have."

He kisses me once more, stuttering out a goodbye, and the peacekeepers pull him away.

I expect to be led away now, but one more person comes in. They have a hood on.

"Who are you?" I ask, on my guard. They pull off their hood, revealing a blonde girl.

"I have advice for you. Here it is: don't trust Yoric."

She leaves the room, and I am left wondering. Who is Yoric? Why would she warn me without knowing me? Has she warned anyone else?

Damian Cross's POV

The peacekeepers take me into the goodbye room. I should already be thinking of plans, but my mind is a blank. I'm too frightened.

"Mother?" My voice quavers. I'm all alone. "Father? Pippa? Sansa? Roslin? Kanni? Anyone?"

A second later, my whole family bursts into the room, and I am smothered by hugs and kisses from all sides.

"Damian. Damian, honey. I love you. Be brave," says my mother.

"You can do it," Pippa chimes in.

"We love you!" my other sisters shout.

My father just holds me, rocking back and forth. Tears are welling up in his eyes.

"My son," he moans. "My little son."

"Goodbye. I'm sorry I have to go," I manage. My head is hurting terribly. From stress, I suppose. More stress than I've ever had before.

"Please don't go," my mother sobs.

"I-I have to..." My head feels like it's splitting with pain.

"Damian! Damian?"

Their voices are growing blurry. I wonder what's happening...

I sink into a dead faint.


End file.
